


Bye Bye Baby

by Dragonie



Series: Rain in the Desert [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Abandonment Issues, F/M, Morning After, Who Am I Kidding I Can't Write Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonie/pseuds/Dragonie
Summary: Ulysses wakes up to an empty bed.Shortfic written for a tumblr prompt: "I woke up, & you were gone".





	Bye Bye Baby

                Ulysses woke to find the other half of the mattress empty.

                Wouldn’t have been surprised, perhaps, in the past.  Courier had little enough keeping her here; if anything, would’ve been surprised she didn’t move on sooner, leave the Divide ashes behind her and move on to new lands, a future that neither he nor this dead place had.

                Never did, though. Been sure, every time she took her leave, that that was the end of it, whether she’d admit to it or not. But every time, she’d come back, rifle on her back, same smile on her face, bringing some new gift from the Mojave. Pity, he’d once thought, but… wrong, about that. But now… things were _different_ , now; better. Knew why she stayed, stayed for _him_ … thought she did, at least, but now she was gone.

                He sat up in the bed, moth-eaten old blanket falling from his naked body. Felt the other side. Cold; she’d been gone a while. Couldn’t say how long he’d slept, not here underground. He kicked off the blanket, picked up his clothes from where they were strewn about the floor – she’d practically torn off his belt last night, nibbling on his bottom lip, didn’t make _sense_ that she’d leave now – and tried to think, to understand why she’d gone. Hard woman to predict, the Courier; always seemed to find new ways of surprising him, delighted in it. His brow furrowed as he pulled his ratty old shirt over his head. Been a long time, before her, but he’d tried to be gentle, let her feel it too. She seemed pleased enough, didn’t think he had _hurt_ her… Regret, maybe; wanted him in the night but thought better of it come morning? That, he could understand; never expected her to feel about him as she did, couldn’t blame her, deciding there was no future in it… but not like her, not her way.

                After a moment’s hesitation, he strapped on his bandolier, put on his breathing mask. If she’d headed out into the Divide, would need to be prepared, to follow her.

                Thought gave him pause. Follow her? Wouldn’t have come to mind before; had always accepted his fate, here. Divide never felt _lonely_ , before.

                Didn’t know what he planned to do, when – if – he caught up to her; felt more like he was acting on instinct. Convince her to come back to him, perhaps? Wasn’t silver-tongued like she was – not used to having others around to hear his words – and had little enough to offer if she stayed, knew that. Find answers, perhaps, at least; why she’d left… if there was any comfort to be found in the knowing of it. Had no plan, no tactic, but wanted to _see_ her, to go to her, couldn’t so easily go back to the solitude, pretend that it had never happened, not anymore. Said he was her _home_ …

                Wasn’t that Ulysses didn’t know the words for how he felt… just never thought of them having _meaning_ to him, still not used to it.

                No trace of her in the Temple, as if she’d never been there. ( _Had_ been there, though; still had the love-bites on his neck to prove it.) Never thought it so empty, before. Taken her gear, meant she’d headed out into the Divide, be foolish to leave without it. Winds made it hard to make out a trail, but he’d done it before.

                Sun boiled high in the sky; early afternoon. Bootprints in the dust before the entrance, sheltered by the cliffs. Hadn’t bothered to hide her tracks; would’ve, if she wanted him not to follow, he told himself. Told him, once, that she thought he left his tapes behind in the Divide wanting her to find them, to _understand_ … might’ve been some truth to it. Same thing, perhaps? Leave a trail, let him follow… to test him, maybe? See if he cared enough to come after her?

                Ulysses shook his head angrily. Long time since he’d let himself get caught up in wishful thinking. Had to be prepared for whatever she might say.

                Her trail was strange, though, not the beeline back to Hopeville he’d expected. Meandered through the Divide instead, ducked into caves, headed towards polluted ponds. No sense in her actions, no reason that he could discern. Seemed disorientated, more than anything else. Couldn’t have troubled her that much, could it? Regretted her enough to take away all reason, set her to aimless wandering? Felt that himself, after White Legs and their way of… _honouring_ him, but wouldn’t have thought…

                Had plenty of reason to regret last night, with all that passed between them before, things he’d done, but thought… he thought he’d shown her _kindness_.

                Pain twisted in his chest; couldn’t get rid of it. Deadly, to be distracted in the Divide, he thought, and the twisting got worse. _Had_ to follow, whether she wanted to see him or not, make sure she was _safe_ …

                Tracks led into a big cave, piles of rock near the entrance, sort a Deathclaw might make into a lair. Ulysses kept a tight grip on Old Glory, stepped into the darkness.

                Nearly collided with the Courier, in doing so.

                She didn’t expect to see him, either; started, gripped the rifle in her hands, then saw who it was, relaxed.

                “Ulysses?” Her eyes were still wide. “What’re you doin’ here? Thought you were back at the Temple.”

                He stared at her, brow furrowing in confusion.

                “Ask you the same question, Courier.” Something was strange, she looked too normal… surprised to see him, but not bothered, no trace of conflict or turmoil. Why leave, only to come here? No sense in it. Tried to keep his voice steady, but didn’t work; traces of confusion and hurt leaked through. Maybe some wouldn’t have noticed, but she was very perceptive, when it came to him.

                She looked nonplussed.

                “Th’ hell are you on about, man?” She took in his face, the tension in his shoulders, the slightly frantic look in his eyes. “Wait. Shit, you thought-? Aw hell, thought I’d be back before you woke up.” She set her rifle down, leaned it against the rock wall, shot him an apologetic look.

                “…What?”

                “…Was out huntin’,” she said sheepishly, gesturing to her gun. “Thought it might be nice, havin’ somethin’ fresh ‘stead of another goddamn MRE for breakfast, y’know, after last night.”

                She scratched behind her ear, embarrassed, a rosy tinge creeping across her cheeks. Ulysses felt dazed, like he’d been hit by a charging bighorner, couldn’t do more than stare.

                “So,” she continued. “I thought I’d go huntin’; seen some mole rat ‘round here before.” She snorted. “Stupid goddamn idea, really; couldn’t find shit. Woulda woken you, but you were sleepin’ more soundly than… pretty much I ever seen you, didn’t have the heart to- Hey, Ulysses? You okay, my man?”

                Tension bled from his muscles, and he slumped, letting Old Glory fall to the ground with a clatter. Courier looked confused, put a tentative hand to his shoulder to steady him, and he grabbed her arm – firm, but not so hard it might hurt her, couldn’t hurt her – and drew her close.

                “Thought you’d gone,” he said, face close to her ear, could see her swallow hard as his breath reached her throat, brought his head closer. “Thought better of it, returned to the Mojave, Woke up, and you were _gone_ …”

                “I…” Her mouth was open, taken aback, as he rested his head on her shoulder, lips at her neck. “Ulysses…” she said faintly, drew an arm around him, stroked his back, touched him as if it were _simple_ … “I’m… sorry for worryin’ you, I really am. Didn’t think it’d mean that much to you. ‘Sides, thought the hunt’d be better, have somethin’ nice to surprise you with.” Didn’t answer; she leaned against him, fingers traced gentle circles on the back of his neck. Could be deadly in a moment, but always gentle, with him; not something he was used to, not since Twisted Hairs. “Musta tracked me here, huh?”

                “Thought you’d left,” he mumbled into her skin.

                “Nah, ain’t the lovin’ and leavin’ kind.” Her hand crept up further, tangled in his hair, cradled his head close. “So, you tracked me down to, what? Yell at me some? Talk me out of it?” He shrugged a shoulder vaguely. Seemed important, before, but now… Courier laughed, gentle fingers danced on his scalp. “…You had no goddamn clue, did you?”

                Her skin smelled faintly of sweat and Divide dust. Part of him wanted to have her there, on the rock; lower her down and get on top of her, make her moan like last night. She’d probably let him, even; wrap her arms around his neck as he pushed her back against the rocks – but no, foolish idea, easy way to get killed down here, being so… distracted.

                Felt her head lean against his, cheek against hair, her other arm wrap and tighten around him.

                “Never figured _you_ for a big ol’ softy,” she snickered, but he heard the fondness in her voice. “Can’t say I ain’t touched, though.” Gave him a brief hug, and detached. Grasped his hand, where it held her upper arm, and brought it to her lips, kissed it; eyes crinkled at the corners as she watched him.

                Wanted to say something, but words to reply wouldn’t come, couldn’t think clearly. Squeezed her hand back, as she held it; seemed to understand that, at least. She held on for a minute, let him stay there, before giving his arm a tug.

                “Come on, my guy,” she said with a grin. “Guess it’s an MRE breakfast for us after all.” She picked up her rifle and slung the strap over her shoulder; he bent down to pick up Old Glory, wondering when he’d gotten so careless as to drop his weapon in a place like this. Never would’ve before, but a very different world now, one in which he never expected to still be standing, yet was.

                Gentle Rain stepped out of the cave, peering off into the distance for signs of Marked Men. Ulysses let her lead him back to the Temple, back home.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written for a tumblr prompt but I kinda like it, so I put it up here too. Prompt was given by the lovely cheloniidae; be sure to check out her amazing fics! If you like Ulysses, I really recommend "Shaker of the Earth;" her characterisation is spot-on!
> 
> Also - writing from Ulysses' perspective? HARD.


End file.
